


Shadows From the Past

by pedanticsoothsayer



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Background Relationships, Gen, jedi order critical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 15:05:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10538925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pedanticsoothsayer/pseuds/pedanticsoothsayer
Summary: The Barsen’thor shares what he has learned with the Jedi Prisoner.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Reconciling my canon with SWTOR canon is always fun.

Za’til had spent most of his life surrounded by the contented energies of the Jedi. Their serenity swirled around them, following members of the Order in an air of pretentious spiritual freedom. They were at peace. Despite everything in the universe to the contrary, they allowed themselves to be at peace.

  
Revan was a storm.

 

From the moment they had awoken, they demanded answers and explanations that their rescuers couldn’t even start to give. Their anger was like a beacon, a focal point that was clear through all of their other emotions and thoughts. It was overwhelming to just experience secondhand. They must have been drowning in the Force.

 

Though they had asked to be left alone, Za’til found himself in front of the door to their chambers aboard the Telos. He entered uninvited.

 

The lights were dimmed. Revan sat in the middle of the room, with their back facing the door. They seemed to be meditating, but Za’til couldn’t feel the usual calm he had learned to associate with a master centering themselves. Through the Force, all he could feel was resentment and frustration, sloshing around like water in a pail.

“What do you want?” Revan snapped, without looking at him.

Undaunted, Za’til sat next to them. “I thought you might want company.”

They looked sideways at him. A glow simmered beneath their dark eyes that reminded him of burning embers. “Come to ask for stories from a dead age? Go away; I don’t have the patience to entertain children.”

Za’til felt his hand clench. “I’m no child,” he said in protest. “I am a Jedi.”

Revan raised an eyebrow. “And you think they’re above using children to fight their battles?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Sure, kid.” Revan smiled. “If you’re going to be a pest, you can at least make yourself useful.”

 

Then, they started to stand shakily. Za’til offered a hand, but it was pushed away. “Not that kind of help. Just a little rusty.”

“You look good for your age,” Za’til assured them.  
Revan shot him a well-earned look. They drew both of their lightsabers from their belt, bathing the room in a purple haze.

Za’til jumped up and backed away.

“You do know how to use that, don’t you?” they said, gesturing towards Za’til’s lightsaber. “Sparring always helped clear my head better than sitting around.”

 

Nodding, Za’til drew his own weapon. He was barely fast enough to deflect the dual blades swinging at his head. There was a flash as the purple and orange blades collided. “You’re spry for someone three-hundred years out of practice,” Za’til said, once there was a comfortable distance between him and Revan.

 

They said nothing, pushing forward with an even greater intensity.

Though they were fierce, Za’til met each of Revan’s hits with equal strength. What Revan lacked in size or strength they more than made up for in agility as they continued relentlessly. With each swing, they became more focused, moving with skill and ease.

 

After a dozen or so parries, Revan seemed to relax. “Never understood the appeal of a double blade,” they said adjusting their grip on one of their hilts. “Not sure how you don’t cut your own legs off.”

“I learned how to fight with one,” Za’til said, pushing out with the Force to throw Revan backwards, but they only stumbled a little. “Anything else just felt wrong after that.”

“Makes sense. I’ve always felt naked without something in both hands.”

“After all that time?”

Revan nodded, but wasn’t distracted for long. They jumped, aided by the Force as Za’til swung at their feet.

“Is it difficult knowing you’ll never see the people you once knew?” The words tumbled out before Za’til had a chance to stop them.

Clearing the sweat from their forehead with the back of their hand, Revan stopped swinging for a moment. “I said my goodbyes and I’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with anything I did or didn’t tell people.”

He paused, unsure if he should continue. Before Revan could continue the duel, he made his decision. “Even your lover?”

 

Revan’s eyes narrowed, though Za’til felt no hostility from them. “Wouldn’t have expected that to be common knowledge.”

“It isn’t. I spoke with her. A memory of her, rather, preserved in a holocron kept by the Order.”

Revan dropped their arms to their sides, deactivating both of their lightsabers. Revan’s inner storm had swelled, then surged all at once. Then, they took a deep breath.

 

“You could’ve led with that, you know.”

Za’til shrugged.

“Here I was thinking you just wanted my autoprint or my eternal gratitude for saving my ass.”

“I didn’t know how explain-”

“This holocron, where is it now?”

Za’til looked away from their eyes. “... It was damaged. I’m sorry.”

“I see.”

He called upon his memories of the several occasions where he talked with the long-dead Jedi, hoping to offer some solace. “Master Shan seemed like she was content, that she had found peace in helping rebuild the Order.”

 

They laughed bitterly “She’d- See, the thing is whatever you talked to, it wasn’t her, not really. It’s the image of her the Jedi wanted her to be remembered by. A cautionary tale, that’s all she ever was to them. To show how doubt could corrupt even the most perfect student. Bastila’s strength was her ability to doubt and the Council never understood that. Figures that they’d get to tell their version in the end. They get both of their redeemed knights; a martyr and the example. She deserves- deserved better.”

“But she told me that she loved you. Why would they permit that part of her to remain?”

  
Revan looked him dead in the eyes. “What does the Republic even say happened to me?”

He didn’t flinch. “You disappeared beyond known space without a trace soon after the civil war ended,” Za’til said. “Other than that, it’s not clear.”

“I came back. A... friend convinced me to return, to plan instead of running at danger unprepared. Bastila and I, we had a life together, for a time. It was bittersweet, knowing what I would have to leave everything behind again. Her place was with the Order, not because she’d come back to the Jedi like a wounded animal with her tail between her legs, ready to be scolded for her brashness, but because she could change it for the better. My involvement notwithstanding, Bastila’s story was never a tragedy... I need some time to myself now.”  
Za’til turned to leave.

“Thank you,” Revan said, turning their back to the door once more as it shut.


End file.
